


Hjälp Mig

by wavewright62



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Drama, Year 0 (Stand Still Stay Silent)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavewright62/pseuds/wavewright62
Summary: A little speculation on the summer of Year 0, as seen through the person who became the troll with the heart earrings on the Dalahästen.My contribution for the letter H in the SSSS Alphabet & Singalong Challenge.





	

It was good to see Sven keeping watch out by the pumps while the stragglers in the convoy made their way into the petrol station where they would camp for the night. The station was already well-looted of any supplies and even the shelving units had been hauled away, but the building itself would offer some shelter from the rain. They were also in luck – the water tap out the back was miraculously still running, and fed from a well! As she helped fill any water container they could muster, she knew she could trust Sven to look after her, and the others as well.

In the months since the Rash had come to Sweden, their well-ordered society had broken down to nomadic tribes robbing the stinking piles of corpses for supplies. The summer had been particularly cruel, as they all discovered that the monstrous trolls, the mindless undead remains of their neighbours, were no longer needing to find shelter and could attack at any time. They would occasionally pass you by if you stood perfectly still and made no noise, but the teeming billions of flies breeding on the rotting piles this cursed summer made it impossible. They would find their way into any crevice, and spitting them out from between your lips was enough to give you away. Careless scratching at the bites was enough to expose a person to the Rash even if they were wearing their mask, so they'd all started wearing gloves bartered from the loot of other nomads, even despite the heat.

She took her gloves off now, and took some of the precious water that had dribbled down the side of the can she was filling, and rubbed it onto her neck. Her nails had grown long inside the protective gloves; she'd never had such beautiful nails in her life, she sighed. The nails set the puff heart earrings jingling. They'd been a present from Alla (how many centuries ago?), and she'd been wearing them when she'd had to leave Alla behind, staring and absent-mindedly scratching her arm, as she grabbed some things and fled the apartment, clutching her mask to her face. Alla hadn't tried to stop her, they both knew it was the way it had to be once one of them showed the symptoms of the Rash. What had she brought with her? Some underwear, some sweaters, the travel pack of toiletries, her phone and charger, her passport, her wallet with the bank cards and kronor…. at least the sweaters were useful over the winter, less so now.

Technically, she hadn't even left Stockholm yet, although the city where she'd lived all her life was essentially gone. The landscape was almost unrecognisable; the once-familiar roads clogged with abandoned cars and long-since-looted trucks, the buildings (mostly) empty, the sewerage systems overwhelmed and flooding low-lying areas with fetid water. That water could never be trusted, as diseases normally associated with less hygienic places came back to Sweden. Other nomadic tribes held certain areas and you could never be certain what kind of welcome you would receive.

The tribe filled itself to the brim with fresh water, made its nightly Rash inspection and settled in for the night inside the communal tent they always made with the mosquito netting they'd bartered to obtain. She would have third watch, so she lay down on the concrete floor for whatever rest she could get, until Sven came off first watch and settled in around her, clasping her to him, cupping one hand around her breast under her undershirt. It was too hot for spooning, but the human comfort of touch superseded any minor discomfort, and she responded, wiggling herself into the curve of his body. Somebody started coughing elsewhere in the room.

\---------

The rumbling woke those it could. The tribe had stopped roaming, and had settled in this place, wherever it was, it didn't matter anymore. The Rash had come to them, and even those who could awaken were mostly helpless. In the twilight between not awake and not asleep, she heard the rats scurry, even the ever-present buzz of insects seemed to hush, then silence, then the rumble slowly getting louder. Funny, she thought as she lay, that sounds like people stomping their feet at a football match. But they weren't chanting the name of their favourite team – there was just a jumble of words. Looking up into the looming creature that suddenly filled the room around the tribe, she thought she could make out the words, "hjälp mig." I can't help you, she thought desolately, it's all gone, there's nothing left.

\---------

The rumbling woke those it could. It was time to mobilise, the rumbling would come so quickly and any hesitation would see the source recede just as quickly. Something about that rumble was irresistible. It spoke of – home – or something else, maybe just someplace that wasn't here. They moved into position, and …the leap was good! They scrambled on with whatever they could find to get a grip, not noticing the parts that fell into the wheels. The thrumming of the …what was it called, the train, the thrumming of the train excited them. The train would take them all away. And there were people inside! Yes, people, must get to the people, tell them make them see bring them here go with them wheregetthemtohelpmepleasehelpmetellmehowhelpme. The inchoate longing spread throughout them. They were inside! Inside, there were the people, but they were attacking, must defend, stop it we just want to just want to no wait help us and suddenly the great pain as something hit them.

\---------

She lay on the floor, wondering how she came here. Where was Alla? No, Alla wasn't here, she was gone, that blonde lady wasn't her. Where was Sven? She couldn't think. It was loud, so loud, with a rhythmic thrumming under her face. She couldn't feel her heart, but was it hers? It was a familiar thrumming, like a…a train! Yes, she was on a train, they wanted to get on a train. She needed to get up, it was time to leave the tribe, she needed to go now. She felt weak and couldn't stand up. That was when she saw a couple of young men next to her. Maybe they would help her, she reached out. She struggled to speak, her voice was sluggish and sounded like it belonged to someone else. "Hjälp Mig," she managed to ask the blond man closest to her.

Why was he screaming?


End file.
